


Death of the Undying

by Keep_Looning



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, But it's there, Flashbacks, I cried while writing this, Pain, Some Fluff, Suffering, This one is gonna hurt, Tragedy, if you like pain, not a lot, okay y'all, this is the fic for you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25122118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keep_Looning/pseuds/Keep_Looning
Summary: He always thought that he'd go down kicking and screaming, not crying and cowering.Every day a little more of him faded, piece by precious piece disappearing. It was tortuously slow, and the people he cherished with such intensity, with such fierce love were completely oblivious to it all.A story of the present as told by the past.
Comments: 31
Kudos: 18





	1. Preface

_What am I?_

Prussia had been searching for the answer for decades, for _centuries_ even without ever once approaching a satisfying conclusion. He’d lived through endless wars — bloody, _vicious_ things. He could still hear the screams of countless men crying, _begging_ for mercy, but he’d never given it. They'd pleaded for their lives, but he hadn’t understood the desperation back then. How could he when all he had were vague speculations on what it was to be a transient being? He supposed it was a fearsome thing, to face such a human affliction — _mortality._

The word itself sent shivers up his spine. 

It was such a faraway concept — _death._ It never wandered too closely, not to someone like him. Prussia hadn’t understood mercy, or what it was to value and cherish the beautiful world around him.

That is, until a little blue-eyed, blond-haired nation staunchly marched right into his life.

Prussia smiled. When Germany was a small, frail little thing, he would crawl into his bed at night and ask the most worrisome things:

* * *

There was a fierce storm raging outside, the gusting winds so powerful that it seemed as though the house quivered in fear — rattling windows crying out in distress as the very walls around them shook. A flash of lightning _cracked_ violently outside, the sharp rain brutalising the roof above with a dull _thunk._ It was a savage display of nature, beautiful in its terrifying severity.

It was nights like these that Prussia laid awake in bed, waiting. Sure enough, the quick pitter-patter of footsteps running swiftly down the hall accompanied by the soft _creak_ of the door announced the appearance of a scared (but doing his very best not to show it) little nation.

Prussia smirked at the predictability of it all, wordlessly lifting his blanket up as an invitation. 

It was accepted, a small body pressing close to his side. Prussia felt his little brother breathe out in relief, and he couldn’t hold himself back, “Aww, is my _kleiner bruder_ still afraid of a little storm?”

Germany huffed in annoyance, but the fact that he didn’t pull away indicated that _yes,_ he probably _was_ afraid of a ‘little storm.’

Prussia laughed when the silence only persisted, “Don’t worry, the awesome me will protect you.”

“I’m not scared, _dummkopf.”_ Germany mumbled into his chest. “And I don’t need _you_ to protect me.”

“Oh-ho, _bruder_ is already big enough to take care of himself, eh?” Prussia smirked. “That’s fine by me. I guess I’ll just-”

The deafening _boom_ of thunder tore a scream from both brothers, Prussia pulling the covers over both their heads to hide them away.

Germany tangled both his hands in the front of the older’s shirt, eyes squeezed harshly shut. He was hardly breathing, body so tense it was a wonder he didn’t snap.

Perhaps feeling just a touch of concern, Prussia removed the blanket from over their heads in favor of wrapping an arm securely around the clearly-frightened blond. This behavior wasn’t like Germany at all, and Prussia could feel the beginnings of concern pull at his chest, “Hey, what’s wrong with you? It’s just a little thunder.”

Germany shook his head, his breathing still shallow as he whispered, “Cannons, and guns, and _screaming,_ and so much blood, and pain, and-”

“Woah, woah, slow down.” Prussia said gently, worried beyond belief by the words. “What are you talking about? You’ve never even seen a battle before.”

“Then why do I remember?” Germany breathed, cringing at the distant roll of thunder outside.

Prussia bit nervously at his lip, deciding to play dumb, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You read too much, _bruder,_ those strategy books are messing with you.”

Germany shook his head again, asking breathlessly, _“Bruder,_ what are we?”

The whispered plea gave Prussia pause. 

What were they?

 _Nations_ was the first word that came to mind, followed closely by _immortals._ They were the undying, mighty beings of great power and generations of collective wisdom in one body. _Gods_ who lived amongst men, housing in them the will and desire of their people.

But they were also individuals who laughed, and cried, and loved — all of those undeniably _human_ traits that made them fallible. They couldn’t die like a normal man, but they knew what it was to feel pain and suffer through disease and loss…

So, what were they?

Prussia pursed his lips in thought, feeling his brother shift against his side. He looked down, finding that Germany had tucked his head under the albino’s chin once more. Prussia smiled softly, whispering as gently as he dared, “Well, I’m the awesome Prussia, and you’re my little brother.”

Germany jerked in surprise, looking up skeptically, “That’s it?”

“Yup!” Prussia chirped brightly, laughing at the disgruntled look on his brother’s face. “I’m just Prussia, and you’re just Germany, and that’s just fine.”

* * *

A century and a half later, Prussia now laid alone in his own bed, staring at the ceiling. There was no storm outside, but all the ferocity of a raging maelstrom tore viciously inside his chest. He never discovered what a being like him was, but he did find out what he _wasn’t._

He wasn’t immortal.

He never was.


	2. Chapter 2

It began so subtly that Prussia almost missed it.

He’d been lounging on the couch, watching some crappy soap opera that Spain got him hooked on while his brother was away at a conference. Prussia didn’t do much these days besides drink and act like the nuisance he was. It was a far cry from the glory of battle and the sweet taste of victory that had characterized his youth, but he supposed it was acceptable.

Prussia leaned forward in his seat, squinting to see the picture on the screen before him. His eyesight had never been exceptional, but he thought that it’d been better than _this._

He could hardly make out the features of the characters on screen, and lately he’d noticed the edge of his vision darken. It was like he’d just woken up after a long night out, eyes still blurry before he could wipe away the fuzziness. Only, the bleariness didn’t disappear even though he scrubbed and wiped the excess moisture away. It was as though his vision was fading. 

Prussia growled in annoyance, once more scrubbing violently at his eyes as the world around him dulled just a little more. He never wanted the world to lose its color, its vibrancy. He wanted to see it all:

* * *

“Do you think it ever ends?”

“No way, man, there’s too much.”

“Ay, and so blue, too. _Tan hermoso!”_

“It’s so awesome.”

“It’s the best!”

“...it’s the ocean?” France jumped in, approaching his friends with a perplexed look.

Prussia whipped around to face him with a broad smile, _“Ja,_ me and Spain were just saying that!”

France raised an eyebrow up at that, looking between his two friends with a vaguely amused expression. He walked up to them, right on the edge where grass met sand. A vast beach was sprawled before them, but the magnitude of the sandy landscape was lost to the sheer immensity of the water that lay just beyond. Cerulean waves crashed and churned, the endless blue seamlessly blending with the azure horizon that made the swirling waves seem limitless.

It was beautiful, plain and simple, yet France still looked perplexed, “Excuse me, but have you never seen the ocean before?”

Spain smiled that dopey smile of his, although his voice was sharp, “Of course we have, but we could see it a million times and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“I want to see it all!” Prussia yelled, standing with his hands on his hips. “My awesome eyes want to see all the pretty things in the world!”

France rolled his eyes, but a playful smirk overtook his features, “Well, that’s all you had to say _mon cher.”_ He flipped his silky bond hair, sending a wink the albino’s way as he proclaimed, “Look no further, for I am the most beautiful thing in the entire world!”

Prussia pushed him lightly in the shoulder, “I think I’d rather look at Spain.”

Spain smiled, _“Gracias.”_

With a pout, France mumbled, “Excuse you, I am a piece of art.”

“You’re a piece of work, that’s for sure.” Prussia huffed.

France placed a delicate hand over his chest, clearly offended, “As the cutest member of this trio, I resent that.”

Prussia almost gagged, “Dude, you are so not cute.”

“I agree, nobody is as cute as _mi Romanito.”_ Spain chirped.

Both France and Prussia groaned loudly.

Spain looked between the two of them in confusion, “Am I wrong?”

 _“Mon ami,_ you have an obsession.” France sighed.

“But Roma is just so cute!” Spain squealed in delight. “Ay, _mi pequeño tomate_ gets so angry when I say it, but I just can’t help it!”

Prussia rubbed lightly at his temples, feeling a headache coming on as the Spaniard continued to gush over his little colony, “Spain, dude, just shut up.”

Spain pouted, but did as directed. He set his gaze out to those swirling depths once more, the pout melting away into something decidedly wistful, “I hope I always get to look out and see the world like this.”

“Like what?” Prussia asked curiously, although he had an inkling to what his friend was getting at.

Spain sighed, “Like _this._ ” he gestured towards the beach and to the endless ocean beyond, “It’s clean. No politics, no wars, just beauty.”

France nodded his agreement, “Like a painting.”

“I want to see it all.” Prussia reiterated, uttering the words with as much sincerity as he could muster. The sun was beginning its slow descent towards the horizon, the color changing as the leaves do in autumn — fiery oranges softening the blinding rays. The light reflected harshly off the waves, but Prussia didn’t turn away. He welcomed the sharp glint of light, his eyes set ablaze with a spark so bright that it could put the sun’s brilliant rays to shame.

_I want to see it all._

* * *

Prussia stood before a mirror, softly poking at the skin surrounding his eyes. They were dull, almost dead, that incandescent flame nearly extinguished entirely. He frowned, blinking harshly to try and recover some clarity, but it was hopeless.

He sighed, backing away to run a heavy hand down his face. Even his pale features seemed less stark now — his snowy white hair was now grey, his pale skin now sallow. The worst part was, he couldn’t be sure if he actually looked as sickly as his reflection indicated or if his eyesight was simply deteriorating so quickly that it only _appeared_ to be that way.

Prussia supposed he could ask somebody, but he didn’t know how to approach the conversation without betraying his growing anxiety. Maybe he was just getting sick. Surely he’d recover in a few days time.

Nodding sharply to himself, Prussia returned to his spot on the couch. He sat there, looking with unseeing eyes at the television, until the _creak_ of a door alerted him to the presence of someone new:

“Have you moved at all today?” sighed an exasperated voice.

Prussia twisted to look over the couch, making out a vague blob that could only be his brother. He smiled, winking as he said, “I never move more than necessary, _bruder._ I’ve got to conserve my energy.”

“Energy for what?” Germany huffed, kicking his shoes off as he snarked, “For going out and getting wasted?”

“Sounds like you want to go out with me. What do you say? France showed me this awesome place that’s like really cheap and-”

“I’ll pass.” 

Prussia pouted, “Oh, come on! You’re no fun anymore, West.”

“Maybe tomorrow, I have plans with Italy.” Germany said shortly, walking right past the couch and into the kitchen.

With a soft smile that he made sure his brother couldn’t see, Prussia stood and followed. He was just a bit relieved that his plans had been rejected, the way his eyesight faded in and out making him feel apprehensive about going out. Still, the news about Italy made his heart skip a beat. He had an undeniable soft spot for the excitable nation, although he would never make a move. No, all of Italy’s affections belonged to his brother.

That smile was no longer so soft, a pained edge coloring his features. Prussia tried to shake himself out of it, instead focused on following the sound of the faint rustling in the kitchen. He tried to walk confidently, tried to mask the hesitation that marked his every move, but all his efforts came crumbling down when he tripped over a chair that hadn’t been pushed all the way in.

 _”Scheisse!”_ Prussia hissed as his knees cracked against the hard tile below, the palms of his hands slapping against the ground as he managed to save himself from completely falling on his ass.

Germany rushed over, concern coloring his tone as he helped the albino up, “Are you alright?”

Prussia scrubbed harshly at his eyes, noting the way his brother’s steadying hand didn’t fall away from his shoulder even after he was planted firmly on his feet. He brought in a shuddering breath, looking up to his brother with a sharp nod, _“Ja,_ I’m fine. Just a bit clumsy today.”

Germany nodded slowly, but kept a hand clapped on his shoulder when he asked, “What are you looking at?”

Too late, Prussia realized that he couldn’t really make his brother’s face out at all. His gaze was cast over the blond’s shoulder, and it was with a nervous laugh that he shifted to meet his brother’s eyes directly, “I’m…”

He trailed off, suddenly noticing something. Prussia grabbed Germany’s face in both hands, a look of careful concentration etched in his expression. He turned it to the side, then to the other, trying to find something.

“Um… what are you doing?” Germany asked in confusion.

But Prussia didn’t hear him. He kept peering in his brother’s eyes, his breathing going shallow when he couldn’t see that lovely color of blue anymore. He’d always loved the color blue, the cool hue taking him back to that day on the beach with his friends. It was there that he promised himself that he would see it all, and then go back and see it all again.

But the blue was gone.

And he had no doubt if he went back to that place on the beach, those shimmering waves that he loved so dearly would be dull as well.

Prussia dropped his arms to the side, shaking his head to dispel those thoughts. If he lingered too long on the darkening world around him, he was sure he’d start crying in despair. So instead he smiled, patting his brother twice on shoulder before turning away, “I think I’ll go out tonight after all.”


	3. Chapter 3

It was snowing outside — delicate flakes flitting through the air, twisting and dancing, struggling to remain airborne. Inevitably they coalesced onto the frozen ground, a fluffy white blanket that was neither soft nor warm. The sky was a dreary grey, the sun not daring to show its face on a day so bleak. 

Days like these were what Prussia lived for.

He sat alone, slumped heavily against the back of a bench in a vast park. It was a small miracle that he’d made the ten minute trek from his brother’s house to this park without getting lost, and absently he wondered how he was going to find his way back. He quickly decided that the issue was a problem for his future-self, and resigned himself to a dangerous journey back home.

A few flakes landed against the bare skin of his face, but he didn’t wipe them away. With merely a light jacket more suited for spring, and a threadbare winter cap that he refused to throw away, Prussia was absolutely freezing. He shivered violently on the bench, yet he didn’t wrap his arms around his middle to retain what little body heat he had. He let the cold infect him, festering until it was all he could feel.

Prussia could hardly see the world surrounding, although he found solace in the fact that these days were just as grey for everyone else. His vision was almost completely gone, but he’d managed to hide it from most everyone. Still, it was getting increasingly difficult to hide his ailing state.

With a drawn-out sigh, Prussia finally leaned forward on the bench, feeling more than seeing how the powdery snow on his shoulders slid away. He heard a child laughing, looking up on instinct to try to get a glimpse. When all he saw was grey bleariness, he cast his eyes down to his gloved hands.

The laughter that filled the crisp air around Prussia should have warmed him up, yet another shiver still ripped through his frame. He rubbed his hands together, bringing them to his mouth to breathe warm air into them.

Prussia loved to laugh, loved to smile. Even when he was in pain or suffering through one of the many tragedies in his long life, Prussia always smiled. It was his greatest weapon — his ability to remain blithe despite the doleful circumstances surrounding him. And oh, he had lived through some trying times indeed.

* * *

The city was gone. Levelled. Obliterated. Destroyed.

There was nothing left but the collective wail of despair and agony of a people who were brought to their knees yet again. In his heart, Prussia could feel his people’s pain as though it were his own, but he knew whatever pain he felt had nothing on his brother.

Germany was curled up on his side, arms hugging his middle as sweat poured down his face. His hair had long been dislodged of its rigid style, a light dusting of powdery rubble coating his entire body. Both brothers were hiding in the ruins of this once-glorious city — a symbol of power and strength reduced to the smoldering embers of an empire fizzled out. 

Prussia sat on the ground behind the blond, a singular hand on his shoulder in an effort to provide what little comfort he could. It was deathly silent, the shuddering sounds of his brother’s labored breathing the only thing to disturb the wretched hush that took the city hostage. The floorboards underneath them creaked, and then were silent. Prussia breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Last thing we need is another building collapsing on us.” Prussia muttered under his breath.

Germany must have heard him, a choked-off sort of noise that must have been a chuckle escaping his lips, “It might make it easier to hide.”

Prussia smirked at his brother’s sardonic sense of humor, patting him twice on the shoulder, “You should be asleep.”

“So should you.” he instantly replied, hacking painfully into his hand when a particularly fierce coughing fit took him hostage.

The smirk Prussia wore dimmed, worry beginning to pick at his insides. He didn’t know what was going to happen anymore, who would come out unscathed. Prussia had lived a long, _long_ life, and he had seen the aftermath of wars such as these. There was a chance both of them would be dissolved for this, the thought causing him to tighten his grip on his little brother.

Germany grunted in pain at the action, sending the other a pointed look, “You’re scared.”

Instead of admitting weakness to something that was abundantly clear, Prussia smiled, “Ha! Not a chance, _bruder._ The awesome me is physically incapable of feeling scared!”

Germany rolled his eyes, the pain that had rendered him unable to move fading just long enough for him to turn and face the older directly, “Is that why your hands are shaking?”

 _“Pssh,_ that’s just my awesomeness trying to escape my body.” Prussia said, cackling when Germany rolled his eyes again. 

“Yeah, something like that.” he wheezed, another shuddering coughing fit taking him hostage. It was like the rubble and ash that clouded the city skies also clogged Germany’s lungs, making it near impossible for him to draw breath. 

Prussia’s smile slipped from his face, worry once more being the most prominent emotion he felt. He leaned back to sit more comfortably against the chipped wall behind him. Outside he heard a truck amble by, both brothers’ holding their breaths until the sound faded. 

Germany shifted until he was lying on his back, facing straight up. He wore a perplexed look on his face, one that was only made more severe by the lengthening shadows as the sun continued to dip. Germany peered up, and despite the rubble that coated the rest of his being, his eyes were as clear as a warm summer’s day. He coughed once, asking as soon as his throat was clear, _“Bruder,_ what are we?”

Prussia’s flippant attitude faltered for just an instant, something like uncertainty dancing in his eyes. This was a question that had haunted him for ages, and he was quickly finding that he was no closer to the answer now than he was the century previous. He looked around the crumbled building they were hiding in, and thought about the demolished city surrounding. With his own hands, Prussia had built empires that spread entire continents, but they never lasted. Never. Not once. Was he to suffer the same fate as the city? A symbol of power reduced to nothing but ash and ruins?

_Are we really so immortal?_

It wasn’t the first time Prussia had ever questioned his immortality, and it wouldn’t be the last. But, just like every other time he was asked such a question, he smiled. He turned back to his brother, saying with a sense of assuredness that he didn’t really feel, “Well, I’m the awesome Prussia, and you’re my little brother!”

Germany looked displeased with the answer, pursing his lips in thought, “That’s it?”

“Mm-hmm.” Prussia hummed, making sure to keep his smile bright as the sound of another truck got a little too close for comfort. “We’re also probably about to be discovered.”

Germany sucked in a sharp intake of breath, but his face remained solemn. He nodded, showing no fear, only resignation, “Let them find us, it’s time to put an end to this pointless war.”

Prussia would never say it out loud, but he had never been prouder of his brother than in that moment. And when they were discovered and quite literally ripped away from each other, Prussia continued to smile.

If he could only hold onto his smile, then he was sure that he could make it through anything.

* * *

The ambient sounds of the park were fading, that young child’s laughter having long since disappeared. Prussia sat hunched over on the park bench, elbows on his knees and chin in his hand. He looked forward with unseeing eyes, the sun having dipped low enough that his vision was completely obscured. It was almost like he didn’t exist. A ghost.

Prussia sighed, only vaguely registering the sound of somebody drawing nearer. There was a light _tip-tap_ of nails against the concrete — a dog. Actually, the more Prussia listened, the more it sounded like multiple dogs. The person walking them sounded like they were struggling to keep up, trying to reign the furry beasts unsuccessfully in. 

Prussia very nearly smiled, but he just couldn’t push his lips in the proper position. It was like the action of a smile eluded him, fading just as quickly as his eyesight. 

He would have pondered that further, but a short yelp of surprise followed by a deep _bark_ had him glancing up on instinct. Of course, he couldn’t _see_ anything, but he could sure as hell feel a large, furry body crash into his knees, their front paws landing in his lap as a disgustingly wet tongue ran up his cheek.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! He was just excited, and… Prussia? Is that you?”

That voice… it was familiar. Bright, almost lyrical, like they were always singing. It was also warm — far too warm to belong to such a harsh climate. All at once, it hit him, and Prussia was pushing on the best smile he possibly could, “Ita! Hey, how are you?”

Italy finally got a handle on the dog — _Germany’s dog,_ he belatedly realized — before answering in a sweet sing-song voice, “I’m great actually! I just got here a little while ago, and Germany’s been really busy so I offered to walk his dogs, and he said yes! So I went outside, and I remembered how nice the parks are here, and especially right after it snows! It’s like a big, fluffy blanket, and I wanted to see it, but the dogs saw you and I think they recognized you because they dragged me over here, and here we are!”

Prussia’s smile became remarkably more genuine the longer Italy spoke, almost laughing at the excitable nation. He couldn’t see what expression Italy was making, but he was probably smiling right back. Prussia scooted over on the bench and patted the spot next to him, “That’s just like West, making you walk his dogs. Why don’t you take a break and then we can head back together?”

“Sure!” Italy chirped, promptly sitting down next to him. He pushed himself close to Prussia’s side, unconsciously seeking out warmth in the midst of the frigid, winter’s night, “Oh, and Germany didn’t make me walk the dogs, I’m the one who offered!”

Prussia held a hand out, feeling the way one of the dogs placed their head in his palm. He scratched the underside of its jaw, his smile fading just the smallest bit, “You’re too sweet on him. West will get lazy if you do everything for him.”

Italy laughed, “Germany? Lazy? No, I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that.”

The dog Prussia was petting — he really couldn’t tell which one — whined lowly, nuzzling his hand in a way that almost felt sad. Prussia’s smile disappeared completely, feeling a wave of sadness overcome him — like a wet blanket thrown over a blazing fire. He closed his eyes, despising the way the blackness remained unchanged.

Italy must have sensed something was off, asking in a soft voice, “Why are you out here by yourself?”

Prussia kept his eyes closed, still idly petting the dog in front of him. He shrugged, unable to answer honestly without exposing his worsening state, “Just wanted to get out for a while, y’know?”

Italy hummed in acknowledgement, not offering a verbal response. He sat close enough that their shoulders bumped at every intake of breath, his foot tapping a slow melody.

Prussia almost lost himself to that steady beat, the sound keeping him grounded. Without a visual stimulus, Prussia always felt like he was on the verge of drifting away. Like he was just an apparition suspended in limbo — lost to the void. He didn’t want to be lost to the ever-present darkness around him, but what was he to do? Now it was his vision, next it may be his hearing. Then his taste, smell, touch… What would be left? An empty shell of a nation. A memory.

A gentle hand on his shoulder, and then a whisper, “Prussia? Are you alright?”

It was a shame that the snow had stopped falling — without it, Prussia didn’t have an excuse for the moisture running down his face. He sniffled, but didn’t make a move to clear the tears from his eyes, “Ita, you’ve been around for a long time, right?”

Italy hummed in acknowledgement, not removing his hand from the albino’s shoulder, _“Sì,_ I guess I have.”

“Have you ever thought… I mean-” Prussia cleared his throat, trying to rid any shakiness there before continuing. “Have you ever wondered what we were?”

“Of course.” was the immediate response, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s hard not to think of such things when you’re this old.”

Prussia nodded his agreement, “Have you ever figured it out?”

Italy was silent for a handful of moments, and Prussia would have loved nothing more than to get a glimpse of the excitable nation as he pondered that question. Finally, after many faltering heartbeats of silence, Italy sighed, “No, I don’t think so. Sometimes I think I’m like a god, but then I fall back to Earth.”

“How do you know you’re not a god?” Prussia asked, ruffling the dog’s head when it began whining again.

Italy hummed in thought, for once sounding like the centuries-old being he actually was, “Well, God is eternal, right? If I was a god, then I would be the same person I was when I was just _Venezia_ and not _Italia._ But I’m different now, the world made me different. And you’re different, and so is Germany. The world doesn’t change for me, I change for the world — for better or for worse.”

Prussia nodded along, but he wasn’t satisfied with that. He knew what he _wasn’t,_ but the question of what he actually _was_ still eluded him. He removed his hand from where it was buried in the dog’s fur, leaning back on the bench, “You’re pretty smart, you know that, Ita?”

Italy giggled, back to sounding like the sweet, innocent being that he projected, “Thank you. Do you want to walk back with me?”

 _“Ja,_ I better get back before West starts worrying.” Prussia stood, hearing several joints pop as he stretched. He offered an arm, smiling the faintest bit when he felt Italy link their arms together. He could pass this off as one of his numerous attempts to flirt with the little nation, but in reality he needed to hold onto somebody or risk walking into traffic. The thought made him frown.

_God, I’m completely useless._

Italy began walking, and Prussia followed. He didn’t try to start another conversation, although Italy spoke enough for the both of them. The longer they walked, the more Prussia felt like crying. He couldn’t explain why, but it was just getting harder to hold it together. He sniffled, miraculously holding his tears at bay. If Italy noticed, he didn’t say anything.

The day ended as it began — uneventful. Prussia didn’t think to remember this day as anything significant, but had anyone been paying attention, they might have noticed. 

It was the last day Prussia smiled.


End file.
